His Maid
by CheebieBeebie
Summary: She always has to clean up after Kylo, every time. She hates it, doesn't she? Short One-shot with Kylo Ren set BEFORE the events of The Last Jedi. Rated T for Some bad language, suggested romance, very light violence. I do not own Starwars/Kylo Ren/Stormtroopers etc. The OCs Lemea and Desdean belong to me.


Kylo Ren. He is always a fucking mess. I always have to fix his damn tantrums. He destroys a ship control console? I'm to fix it. He makes a huge mess of some unfortunate Stormtrooper? I have to clean that, too. "This man, he frustrates me," I state, turning in my chair as I lean forward, resting my head in my hands, paying no mind to the small amount of blood I am smearing on my face. That poor Stormtrooper was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I let out an exasperated sigh as Desdean speaks. "Who frustrates you?" I lift my head from my hands to look at the tall, light haired man standing against the wall. "Who else? Fucking Kylo, that's who. You are so damn oblivious." I stand from my chair, and walk to the doorway, pausing momentarily as Desdean speaks again. "I really wasn't paying attention, I'm sorry." "I am well aware. Thanks for nothing, yet again, Desdean. I don't know why I bother talking with you, you are mind-numbingly incognizant." I say, my irritation clear in my voice. "You know, you are one in the same, Lemea. Your anger. You should-" He begins, only to be cut short by my fist colliding loudly against the metal door frame. I remain still for a few moments, listening to his loud breaths from across the small room. I release a breath I hadn't known I was holding and exit the room. I am nothing like Kylo. I get angry, but nothing like the childish fits he throws. I do not abuse the ones around me, like he has done to me. Nothing gets me more furious than the mind games he plays. If the Supreme Leader hadn't so much care for him, I would have already put him in his place. He may have talent, but talent is nothing with such little control.

"Come with me, Lemea. Now." I hear the familiar voice from behind me. I stiffen up and quickly wipe the anger from my face before I turn around at the command. Him. "Yes sir." I say. He sounds very mad, yet eerily calm. I follow him obediently down the corridors until the realization of where he is taking me clicks in my mind. I am always waking him up every morning, thus I am very familiar with these corridors. Why is he taking me towards his room? He opens the door and gestures for me to enter, when I do, he follows me in, shutting the door behind him. The room is quite dark in color, not much to it except the destroyed metal on one of the walls. "Face me." He commands, voice almost soft. When I face him, I feel a pressure on my neck as I am jolted backwards into the wall. I widen my eyes as I watch him slowly approach me, my fingers gripping aimlessly at the empty pressure that is preventing me from breathing. He is going to kill me. I take a desperate gasp when the pressure lessens, my mouth incapable of forming words. His hand replaces the pressure on my neck as he holds me against the wall. "Why?" Is all I can gasp out before the pain in my mind begins as he reaches his free hand in front of my face. I struggle against the invading pain. Why is he doing this?

"You are angry, I can feel it. I heard your frustrations," His voice still eerily calm. He is doing this because I was mad and voiced my irritation? How absurd! I will not let him in my mind over something so ridiculous. "Stop struggling, it will only hurt worse." He says and I grit my teeth, struggling harder against his attempts to invade my mind. The pain only intensifies immeasurably, and I let my head fall forward when he releases my neck, my forehead resting in his palm as I give in. It still hurts, but far less without the resistance. I hate giving in to him, but all he wants is information. I have no idea what he wants to know, but as long as the pain stops and he isn't choking me, it should be fine.

I feel his hand pull away from my head as the pain lessens into a faint, lingering throb. "That was interesting." He says as he removes his mask, setting it on the nearby table. I look up at him, and he reaches forward, his hand returning to my neck as I am shoved back into the wall. There is not as much force behind it as before, but I should be use to the abuse by now. My mind is thrust into overdrive when I feel an unfamiliar sensation. His lips are surprisingly soft as he presses them against mine. My lips instinctively part when he glides his tongue along my bottom lip. He tastes sweet, almost like candy. I give in to the sensations and allow our tongues to dance and swirl in an intricate and intimate dance until he pulls away. I am utterly dumbfounded, he just kissed me. My mind has hardly any time to recover by the time I realize he is pulling me by my hand towards his bed. Only in my craziest dreams had this happened. Now it is real. ~


End file.
